


right before you go.

by itsmccomplicated



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, One Shot, Past Brainwashing, Sex, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:14:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26007082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsmccomplicated/pseuds/itsmccomplicated
Summary: clove and a sudden understanding of love and death.
Relationships: Cato/Clove (Hunger Games)
Kudos: 11





	right before you go.

they start you on spiders. you're six or seven, and a teacher will come in to inspect the dorm showers, mutter something under their breath about the cobwebs, and call, "clove, can you come get this bug for me?" it's something you'd probably have done at home anyways, had things been different for you, and you don't think twice. but this is the beginning of something much greater. you do that for a few months, maybe a year. it's to get you used to the feeling of squishing a life underneath your foot, to make sure you don't grow up to be the kind of person who feels compassion in those kinds of situations, because that leads to all sorts of kinks in your wiring. 

then at seven or eight you start emptying out mousetraps from the dark and dusty corners of hallways. the little things are usually still alive when you get to them, squeaking and trying as hard as they can to free themselves from their metal deathbeds. a janitor or supervisor will watch and tell you to finish the job, and you'll do it, with a bit of hesitation, as to avoid getting in trouble. it comes easier eventually. 

it keeps going like this. you don't realize it, of course, but when you're twelve and killing kittens or fourteen and being paid off to eliminate capitol enemies, someone who knew the story of how you got there would be horrified at the kind of conditioning they're doing on little kids. 

the truth is, you end up unable to recognize any version of yourself that isn't cold. on occasion, you wonder who you would have been if you were a little slower of a runner as a kid, if you were less snarky when they came in and interviewed you, if you'd talked it out with the girl who stole your doll on the playground instead of pushing her down the slide. but none of that can be changed, and they'd seen you would be slightly easier than the other kids in your first grade class to turn into an assassin, so that's what they did to you.

you begin to grow up, and feelings are fleeting. you savour every glimpse of apparent normalcy you can get, but your brain is so beyond fucked that there are only a few things which can produce what you believe to be a regular teenage experience. you take the satisfaction of rubbing alcohol and mouthwash over feeling nothing at all. when every broken psycho in the hall is drunk at the same time, you take turns holding back hair and wiping faces. this mimics camaraderie, in some sick, twisted way. you also take the satisfaction of fucking the boy a year ahead of you over feeling nothing at all, so rough it leaves scars and so loud _everyone_ can hear you. it mimics love, in some sick, twisted way. although you don't even really remember what that word means, it lives in the back of your mind. 

only when you volunteer, with strange desires to either provide him with a quick death to end his suffering or bring him home, only when you're with him in a cold arena, sharing a sleeping bag and not even trying to pretend you don't know the other is biting their tongue to hold back tears because it's _so much worse than they made you think_ , only when he's sitting beside you as your life ends and you think those are tears streaming down his face, but you can't be sure since you can't grasp anything anymore because your brain is leaking out of your ears, only then. only then do you finally, for a split second, understand what love means. and understand how brutal it is to die.


End file.
